The Truth Is Rarely Pure And Never Simple
by alaskanbirdfriend
Summary: Sam Winchester and Gabriel finally come face to face after the death of the Devil. A sequel to Be Sure To Taste Your Words Before You Spit Them Out. Part 9 of my Speak Of The Devil And He Shall Appear series.
1. Chapter 1

Sam Winchester is sitting on the hood of a car, holding an archangel blade.

 _No,_ _ **his**_ _archangel blade._

 _The one he used to kill Lucifer._

 _He feels no remorse, even when he had cleaned the remaining bright-red-angel-blood off._

 _Sam thinks it should have been black. Black as the Devil's heart._

He turns it slowly in his hands, examining the writing circling the shining metal. The Enochian words are bunched together in a twisting and turning line, none of them forming complete sentences.

Sam Winchester can read them all, _but not because he now has grace_.

 _SamaelSamuelPoisonOfGodNameOfGodArchangelSoulGraceBornDemonRaised–_

And on and on they go, speaking of an intricate description of him, _of his life, of what he thinks, feels, knows_. _It should probably creep him out, but for some reason, it doesn't._

He hears footsteps approach him from the side, crunching quietly in the mix of dirt and gravel.

Sam sighs softly, and the blade disappears with a thought.

He tilts his head a little bit to his right, and his eyes widen slightly in surprise as he sees who it is.

Gabriel. _Loki, Trickster, Liesmith, Archangel, Messenger Of God._

 _Something deep inside Sam whispers,_ _ **Brother**_ _._

Sam shifts to the left, waving his hand in a gesture to sit down.

Gabriel nods, doing exactly that, and knits his fingers together in his lap.

They both stare into the empty space in front of them, neither one looking at each other.

Gabriel swallows, looking down. "I heard you killed my brother."

Sam stills as he hears those words. _Not Lucifer, not the Devil, but_ _ **my brother**_ _._

 _For the first time after Lucifer's death, Sam feels guilt._

 _But he won't deny that he did it. That's not him._

Sam nods reluctantly, forcing the words out. "I did."

His wings ruffle uncomfortably. He doesn't know what else to say.

There's silence for a bit before Gabriel releases a strangled breath. "I don't know, Sam…I know he was, well," Gabriel snorts. "A great big bag of dicks, yeah, but he was also my brother."

Sam flinches, shoulders curling inwards. "I'm sorry."

Gabriel looks over at Sam in surprise, straightening up.

"I'm not mad at you, Sam. I just…"

Gabriel turns away once again.

"It's strange. Having everyone nearly gone."

 _Sam doesn't need to ask who_ _ **everyone**_ _is_.

"All the archangels are dead, Sam. Raphael, Lucifer, Michael."

Gabriel's eyes flick to the ground, beginning to glow a faint amber-whiskey-gold, like polished bronze, _while Sam's is a bright shining gold,_ and Gabriel murmurs, " _Except me._ "

Sam swallows. "Michael isn't dead."

 _Insane, crazy, lost a few of his marbles, sure, but he isn't dead._

Gabriel frowns, tilting his head to look up at Sam. "What?" He croaks out.

Sam shakes his head, forcing himself not to look at Gabriel.

"He's not dead. He's…" _A mess of limbs and heads bleeding bright-blue grace as it huddles in a ball, mumbling words that come from a shattered mind. They make no sense._ "He's in the cage."

" _What?_ " Gabriel's voice is sharp, demanding answers. But Sam looks at Gabriel, and all he sees is pain.

 _Pain, because Gabriel knows what the cage can do to someone._

Sam stares at nothing again, licking his lips and taking a shuddering breath.

"Michael is in the cage. Our Michael, at least."

" _ **How?!**_ " Gabriel snarls, and it sounds broken.

 _Broken like Michael,_ Sam thinks, and he shakes his head to clear it.

"You…you told us to get the rings. We did. Then we trapped Lucifer. Michael came along for the ride."

Gabriel leans back, shocked. Then he asks the question Sam has been dreading.

"How'd you get them in the cage?"

Sam stops breathing as his eyes turn glassy, unfocused.

 _Pay attention, pay attention, pay attention, pay attention._

 _Pay attention, says the Devil, you don't want your tongue ripped out, again, do you?_

 _Pay attention, says Michael, sneering. Abomination. Learn some respect around me._

 _There is a burning sensation wrapped around Sam's wrist and he whimpers, oh God, what a pitiful sound, and wait, no, it's not burning, it's just really, really warm, too warm for the Devil, too cold for Michael, what is it, why isn't he being tortured, what's going on–_

" _ **Sam!**_ " Someone yells _,_ _and Sam thinks that an archangel's voice in the cage should shred apart his eardrums like paper like they've always been a million times and they don't and now he just feels lost–_

" _ **Sam, listen to me!**_ " _Sam thinks he knows that voice, now. Who is it? It's been so long._

"Sam, fuck, I don't want to have to explain this to your brother, he might actually kill me. So please. _**Open your eyes.**_ "

Sam does, and the world explodes with light.


	2. Chapter 2

Gabriel knows something is wrong as soon as he asks the question. In hindsight, he probably shouldn't have asked at all.

Sam freezes, eyes looking at nothing. And then Gabriel notices he stops breathing.

 _He's seen that before. In himself._

 _What was Sam not telling him?_

Gabriel grabs Sam on the wrist, using what grace he has left to try and take a look inside, to see if he can bring Sam back. But Sam's mind is completely shielded. And to add insult to the injury, Sam curls inwards, closing his eyes and letting out a whimper. _Shit._

 _Blocking should be impossible,_ Gabriel wants to say, but he knows his powers are more than a little down, and Sam was psychic in the past. So he tries what anyone would do. Yelling.

He shakes Sam's shoulder. " _ **Sam!**_ "

Sam doesn't respond.

" _ **Sam, listen to me!**_ "

Gabriel growls in frustration. "Sam, fuck, I don't want to have to explain this to your brother, he might actually kill me. So please. _**Open your eyes.**_ "

And then Gabriel nearly flies away in shock when Sam does.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam is kneeling on the ground, head down, and has blasted everything within a twelve-foot radius away. Except for Gabriel.

 _Sam's wings are stretched out, feathers splayed, glinting like metal and his molten gold halo is dripping and hissing when it hits the ground like it's evaporating, and there are scorch marks on the ground, surrounding where he kneels and his eyes hold no trace of human, they're just rippling energy contained within a vessel and Sam lets out a breath and it shakes the ground–_

And then Sam throws up.

The power snaps back into his body as Sam begins to stand shakily, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and turning to Gabriel, who stands there, _amber-gold wings outstretched and a disk of solid bronze hovering over his head._

Gabriel's eyes are wide as his wings fold back and halo dissipates. And then they both look human again. _Although they are very much_ _ **not**_ _._

Sam stumbles over to another car, leaning on it and hanging his head.

"Sorry," He grunts.

"You have grace," Gabriel says, and it's not a question.

Sam frowns. "Yeah, I thought you could tell."

Gabriel walks over slowly, stiff. "No, I couldn't- my grace wasn't strong enough, I was far too weak." He narrows his eyes as he looks Sam over. "Why do you have grace?"

 _It's not, "How do you have grace?", because Sam thinks Gabriel already knows. Just take a look at the golden feathers, golden eyes, golden halo._

 _It's_ _ **why**_ _, because Sam knows a soul should not be able to contain grace, no matter how powerful it is. A soul is all soul, that's it. Except for Sam Winchester._

Sam's hands shake, and he grabs onto the edge of the car. It creaks under him, and when he moves away, there's a handprint-shaped dent in the metal.

 _Am I ever going to get used to this?_ Sam thinks, sighing. Then he turns back to Gabriel, eyes full of pain.

"My soul…" _God dammit, Sam, just say it._ "It was shredded, torn apart, whatever you want to call it. The cracks, well," He snorts. "The cracks are filled with gold, so to speak."

This time, Gabriel is the one to freeze. "What happened?" _What happened to your soul? Why is it shredded?_ There are so many other questions behind the words Gabriel says. Still, he says it quietly, not demanding an answer.

But Sam chooses to anyway. "The Cage," He says simply, as if it's no big deal at all.

Gabriel snarls. " _ **How?**_ "

Sam bites his lip, turns away. He speaks as quickly as he can. "I said yes. Jumped in. Accidently dragged Michael down too."

Gabriel makes a wounded noise as he flinches backward. "How long?"

Sam winces and shuts his eyes, _shuts the memories out._ "Five thousand years," He whispers, and his wings curl around him like a tent of feathers.

Gabriel chokes. "How are...how are you still _alive?_ "

 _Dear boy, you're all duct tape and safety pins inside. How are you alive?_

Sam shrugs, putting on a bitter smirk. "Honestly? No idea," He rasps out.

 _Before this, he knew he'd been falling apart for quite a while._

 _The only thing holding him together now is grace._

Gabriel looks wary, but he sighs and a weak smile forms at the edge of his mouth.

"Come on, let's get back to camp." Gabriel's three pairs of wings stretch out in anticipation.

Sam looks at them and feels something break in his chest. "Gabe…I'm sorry about your grace."

This time, Gabriel grins, eyes sparkling. "It seems I got a super-charge from you. Don't worry about me."

Sam sucks in a breath. " _What?_ " He whispers, shocked, confused, _and thankful, because for once he did something right in his life._

Gabriel rolls his shoulders, wings stretching out as well. "Yup! Okay, now let's go, because I'm pretty sure Dean _will_ stab me if we don't get there on time for food."

Sam looks at Gabriel, frowning. Gabriel rolls his eyes.

"Yes, I think he knows you don't need to eat, but food is excellent, yes? Come on, let's go."

Sam nods, getting up from where he was leaning against the car. This time, when he stands, he's stable. Good.

And Gabriel sobers a little bit when he watches Sam. And then he looks Sam in the eyes.

 _Amber-whiskey eyes to those of an ever-changing color._

 _Archangel to archangel._

 _One, old as time and the other newly born._

 _And at this, fate herself, trembles._

And Gabriel, _Archangel, Messenger of God_ , speaks.

 _ **For what it is worth, Samael, I think of it as an honor to have you as a brother.**_

Sam falters at Gabriel's voice in his head, but then he smiles and replies with a quiet,

 _ **And I you, Gabriel.**_

They both disappear with a whisper of wings.


End file.
